I’ve heard about this happening, but it’s always been to other people, not me. My brothers have talked about it; my cousins have experienced it. Heck, I first heard about it from my father, of all the awkward ways to learn about something like this.

But I’m turning 50, and like every other guy out there (and yes, women too) it’s just a natural inevitability. Read More

I first met Hugh Grannum decades before I had the honor of working with him. We were in a crowded Ypsilanti gym covering a basketball game together. I was the young photographer, star-struck by getting a chance to speak with the veteran shooter, an icon in Detroit journalism.

What can I say? I’m taking this whole end-of-the-world thing seriously. If Mother Earth does a pole dance and sticks the North Pole where the sun don’t shine, then I want to take this opportunity and wish you all a merry end of the world.

If you haven’t seen the new Lincoln movie, I won’t spoil how it ends. I will tell you, however, that the film made me proud to be an American. I’m talking about the Spielberg project, not the one where Lincoln hunts vampires.Read More

I received a letter in the mail, not long ago, from a major University located in Wayne County, Michigan. I don’t want to name them, but I think they’re the biggest school in the county. They’re named after Major-General “Mad” Anthony Wayne. They asked me how my prostate was doing.

If you don’t want tax increases, excessive government intrusion in your lives, Constitutionally mandated soul replacements and yet even more tax increases, vote for Proposal Z. Tell the politicians YOU want to decide whether or not jeggingsare a crime. A vote for this candidate is a vote for Satan.

Look, I know the political season is a boon to our economy, but I just can’t wait until November 7th when all the attack ads crawl back into the holes from which they were spawned. Read More

Our founder, Mike Morse, began this endeavor back in the 70s by photographing one-room schoolhouses. They slept in chicken coops and ate baloney sandwiches. Nowadays, we rest at the Sleep Inn and eat smoked pork butt, specially made for us by a fabulous volunteer chef. Those Workshoppers from long ago would be turning over in their graves — if they were dead, that is.

It’s crunch time in political campaigns across the country. Numbers are crunched; time crunches, as does the pavement beneath the feet of poll workers. I’ve always enjoyed this season, especially so every four years.

Back when I was mostly just a photographer, I always felt weird telling people, “but I’m a writer too.” Lately, I’ve gotten a weird tickle in my tummy when I tell folks, “but I’m a photographer too.”Read More